


The Breakup

by iwasbotwp



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Developing Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Multi, Sarcasm, Sexual Content, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-27 22:37:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20053648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwasbotwp/pseuds/iwasbotwp
Summary: Harry is confused about relationships. Hermione is confused about what Harry is doing. And Draco is amused.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I am so excited to be taking part in this celebration of the amazing Facebook group Harmony & Co! This piece is being posted without either an alpha or beta reader. I hope to have someone go back and edit for me later, but if you notice anything, I appreciate concrit.

“My god, Potter. Are you attempting to dump me in the same sorry fashion you dumped Ginny Weasley?”

Harry spluttered. He had rehearsed his words perfectly, or so he thought. Trust Draco to throw a spanner in the works. “What?”

“You are. Just admit it.” Draco shook his head slowly, inhaling through his nose, then exhaling through his mouth. Drumming his fingers against the armrest of his leather chair, Draco regarded Harry with narrowed eyes. “You really are quite pathetic, you know?”

Not quite sure what to say to that, Harry decided to try again. “You see Draco, what I’m trying to say is-”

“That you’re an idiot. That’s what you’re trying to say,” the tall, lean wizard drawled. “I believe you have already made that perfectly clear, by way of this ill thought out break-up attempt. No, I don’t agree that today is the day we will be going our separate ways, Harry.”

Now it was Harry who couldn’t help shaking his head at the arrogant prick lounging opposite from him. He made to get up, thinking perhaps a drink would help. At least it would soothe his frayed nerves. 

“Pour me one, too. I’m going to need it,” Draco said, running a hand through his hair, discerning Harry’s intent.

The clink of ice cubes in tumblers, followed by the splash of the amber liquid filling each of their glasses with a generous serving, accompanied the ongoing sound of Draco’s fingers tapping a cadence. With his back turned on the other wizard, Harry grit his teeth, doing his best to ignore the annoying noise. A fake smile was plastered on his face by the time he faced Draco again.

Shoving the drink into Draco’s outstretched hand, Harry didn’t even wait to get back to his own chair before he took a long swig. The Firewhisky burned going down. Mercifully, Draco stopped tapping his fingers now that he held a drink.

“Let me recap, shall I?” Draco began, after taking a sip of his own. Harry sat back down, sinking into the supple brown leather. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes with a tortured groan. Draco chose to ignore him and carry on. “Eighteen months ago you broke up with Ginny by telling her,” Draco said, adding air quotes to the next part, “that it wasn’t her, it was you. She hadn’t done anything wrong. You needed to explore your sexuality. There was nothing she could do to change your mind. You wanted to see if the cocks looked as good as you remembered in the Quidditch locker rooms.”

Harry sat up straight, about to protest that that was not how the conversation had gone at all. Draco held up a silencing hand, waving away the words Harry hadn’t even spoken yet.

“No, Potter, I said I was recapping. No need to go into the sordid details where you told Ginny that only the best cock would do while you explored this other side of yourself. Which of course, would rule out Little Red using toys or a spell to help you get over these  _ urges _ . We both know you had been panting after me for a while, giving me eyes whenever we ran into each other-”

“I wasn’t panting after you!”

“Yet, you don’t deny that you glanced at my package nearly every chance you got in the Ministry lift?”

Harry felt his cheeks heat up. He certainly had studied the slight bulge in Draco’s perfectly tailored trousers more often than he should have when their paths crossed at work. It seemed he had not been as discreet as he thought.

“I didn’t think you noticed,” Harry mumbled into his glass, as he took a rather large gulp.

Draco smirked. “Of course I noticed," he said, before crossing one leg over the other and raising an eyebrow at Harry. "I just thought it would be gauche to comment on it."

The break-up with Ginny had been easy. She had huffed a little, but basically hadn’t known what to say to him. This was looking to be tougher. Especially when Draco was being his usual smug sexy self, compounded by the fact that Harry didn’t really want to break up with him at all.

Unfortunately, Harry had to break up with Draco. It was only the right thing to do, after all. Harry rattled the ice around in his glass, then drained the remaining alcohol pooled in the bottom.

“Potter,” Draco began again, drawing out the word, “what’s this really about?”

“Ron,” Harry stated baldly. “Ron broke up with Hermione on Wednesday night. Told her he didn’t want to be tied down.”

Draco’s nostrils flared and he licked his lips. “Is that how you feel? Going to be like the Weasel and enjoy the single life?” His eyes took on a hard sheen and a sneer began to form on his lips. “Or are you thinking about letting a second ginger ride your broomstick?”

Harry wrinkled his nose and made a quiet gagging noise in response to Draco’s vulgar suggestion. “No!” he answered, imbuing his voice with the shock and disgust he felt.

“So it’s Granger, then, isn’t it?” Draco asked, suddenly looking more relaxed than he had been all evening.

Harry coughed in an effort to cover his shock. “What’s Granger?” he choked out, his voice higher pitched than normal.

A sly smile stole over Draco’s face and he clucked his tongue. “Harry, Harry, Harry. It’s a miracle they keep you on in the Auror division, considering what a rubbish liar you are.”

There was no need for Harry to feign confusion, as he genuinely wasn’t sure what was going on here. Why was Draco acting happy about the situation? “I don’t-”

“You’re attracted to Granger,” Draco interrupted Harry.

Harry sucked his lips into his mouth, biting down on them both as he wondered what he should say to the accusation.

_ In for a knut, in for a Galleon. _

Nodding at Draco, Harry sighed. “I am. Think I have been for a right long time.”

“So? Go for it, I say. No need to worry about breaking up with me over it.”

All Harry could do was gape at the other wizard. 

“What, you really thought you would be rid of me that easily?” Draco chuckled. “No way am I missing out on the fun of being a part of pissing the Weasel off. Or any other  _ fun _ to be had.”

The gears turned in Harry’s head so quickly, he didn’t have time to think about yet another put-down of Ron. Instead, he was wondering what  _ fun _ Drace was referring to.

“Do I need to paint you a portrait?” the blond asked; that smirk Harry had come to find so sexy compounded by Draco's dilated pupils.

Harry gasped, realizing Draco meant exactly what Harry had begun to suspect he meant.

His eyes smouldered over the rim of his tumbler as Draco took a drink, letting the thought sink in with Harry that perhaps Draco imagined they could entice Hermione into a relationship with the both of them. Could they? What would it be like? The idea of it caused a twitch in his cock. Until something else occurred to him.

“Wait a minute. I didn’t know you were-”

“Attracted to Granger?” Draco asked incredulously, heavily dropping the hand holding his empty glass to the arm of the chair. “Why in the bloody hell  _ wouldn’t _ I be attracted to Granger? You really are clueless, aren’t you? Luckily, I find it quite endearing.”

Harry blushed - again. Perhaps he had noticed Draco’s subtle flirting with Hermione, but he had written it off to Draco’s personality, and assumed the lone Slytherin in their weekend pub outings was overcompensating for their past. 

“If you’re to lure Granger into our bed, it’s going to take careful planning,” Draco said, standing up to grab the glass out of Harry’s hand and head to the sidebar to refresh their drinks. He continued on while he refilled their ice and whisky, but Harry missed the rest as he admired Draco’s firm arse in the charcoal trousers he wore. He allowed his thoughts to meander toward a daydream that included Draco’s arse and Hermione’s tits. “She already admires you. And I wouldn’t be surprised if she has harboured a secret crush on your for years, too - something she was never willing to act on while the two Weasleys were in the picture,” Draco broke into Harry’s lascivious thoughts as he put the stopper back in the Firewhisky bottle.

Shifting forward in his chair to conceal his semi-hard cock, Harry nodded. Draco noticed the movement - but Draco rarely missed anything. With a wicked grin, he noted, “I think you’ve jumped ahead of the planning stages, haven’t you?”

“Have you seen what she wears to work these days?” he blurted, after taking the drink Draco offered. It burned less going down his throat than the first one had.

Smugness radiated off Draco when he answered, “Why do you think I always stand on the other side of her when you talk to her? She gets distracted in a swotty conversation with you, while I get to peer down her blouse without her noticing. And those pencil skirts that hug her hips and thighs? I’ve seen the way you stare at her arse when she bends over.”

Giving up on hiding his growing arousal, Harry leaned back in his chair. The alcohol may have something to do with his loosening inhibitions, but there was also the possibility that seeing a growing bulge in Draco’s trousers was helping.

“It isn’t just her body that turns me on, you know.” It seemed important to make this clear. “She’s funny, and kind, and smart, and talented.”

Cocking an eyebrow, Draco added, “But her nice tits and tight arse don’t hurt, do they?”

Harry laughed. “No, they don’t. Although, I’m pretty sure she’d hex your tight arse if she heard you say that.”

“And that is why you are going to be the one to woo her.”

Not ready to commit to any scheme of Draco’s quite yet, Harry hummed. Patience wasn’t one of his strong suits, but he was willing to give it a go. “Maybe I should start by sending her an owl, see if she wants to meet me for lunch this week.”

“Just as long as you don’t take this too slowly. ”

“You’re taking this all rather well, considering I tried to leave you for her less than an hour ago.”

“Harry,” Draco said sniggering, “I’ve been planning on this happening for longer than you’d believe.”

“Try me.”

“How about we head up to your bedroom, and I’ll tell you some of the fantasies I’ve had about you and her?” Draco suggested. “Mind you, I’ve had plenty of time for them to become elaborate.”


	2. Chapter 2

Three days later, Harry and Hermione sat having lunch at a chippy in South London. By tacit agreement, they had left Magical London far behind for their meeting. 

Someone in their circle had leaked the news of Hermione and Ron’s break up to  _ The Daily Prophet _ . Yesterday, the edition that the story first ran, the details had been sketchy at best - leading Harry to believe it was a witch or wizard on the outskirts of their group who had known just enough to be dangerous. But today’s paper had succeeded with a major coup. Ron had quickly made good upon his implied desire to play the field. There was a front page picture of him snogging Susan Bones outside the Leaky Cauldron. 

No need to add to the gossip with a picture of Harry and Hermione eating lunch. Even though they had eaten lunch together literally hundreds of times before.

“That stupid prat,” Hermione said, the first words she had uttered since saying hello when they met at the front door of the restaurant. Not sure where to start, Harry had kept quiet, too.

Harry watched Hermione douse her fish with a liberal amount of vinegar, although she skipped it on her chips, as he chose how to respond. Under the table, he cast a Muffliato. 

The spell didn’t go unnoticed by Hermione; she raised her brows at him before popping a chip into her mouth, waiting for him to respond.

“I don’t know that he’s stupid. He just doesn’t stop to consider-”

“Exactly!” Hermione interjected. Picking up another chip, she jabbed it in his direction. “When has he ever stopped to consider anything? He’s a selfish git.”

Angrily, she stuffed the chip into her mouth, followed in quick succession by another.

Harry tried to decide if he should just agree with her or try to lighten the mood and shift the conversation with humor. On the one hand, he  _ did _ agree with her. But on the other hand, he didn’t want to spend the entire hour talking shite about Ron.

“We all know he has the emotional range of a teaspoon,” he said with an eye roll, hoping he had hit the right note. Jesus, he was bloody nervous. Hopefully, it wasn’t showing.

“Hrmph,” Hermione answered. A small smile quirked her lips briefly before she bit into a piece of her fish. After swallowing, she added, “I had hoped he’d outgrown that. I should have known better.”

Harry sighed. “You shouldn’t have had to  _ know better _ . He should have just  _ been better.” _

“Either way, next time I will.”

Harry bit in the inside of his cheek, thinking he should push the idea that this was not her fault. Would this be different if he wasn’t also contemplating making a move on her, he wondered?

“Hermione…”

“No, Harry. Don’t you ‘Hermione’ me! It’s obvious I need to make better choices, too!”

That was the perfect opening - Harry knew it was. And yet, he sat frozen. Draco was not going to be happy. In fact, Draco would probably want to take over for Harry after this. Oh God, he could not let Draco take this over. The man would scare Hermione off, ruining any chance Harry would ever have with Hermione.

It was only this fear that got Harry to open his mouth. Praying he sounded nonchalant, he asked, “So, are you saying you have choices?”

Hermione scoffed. “What are you trying to say, Harry? Do you think I wouldn’t have any?”

Harry nearly choked on his food, as he desperately shook his head. Only after taking a long drink of water to wash away the burning feeling in his throat, did he finally quit coughing. He knew his face was bright red.

“Bloody hell, I am making a right bollocks of this!”

“A bollocks of what?” Hermione demanded, narrowing her eyes at him.

Prevaricating, he told her, “Trying to be a supportive friend.”

Hermione pushed her half-eaten basket of food to the side and leaned forward. “Harry Potter, you tell me this instant what is going on.”

Harry gulped.

“Are you trying to set me up with someone?” she asked, eyes growing wide. “Did someone from the Auror Department ask you to ask me out? Is it Dean?”

“Dean? Why would you think Dean wants to go out with you?” Harry pushed his basket aside too, suddenly losing his appetite.

“So, it isn’t Dean, then. Who is it? Is it Roger Davies? Or is it that beefy American? It had better not be him. You know I don’t care for Americans. They’re so… crass. I can’t -”

“Hermione! No one from the Auror Department asked me to ask you out!” Harry said, immediately regretting how harsh it came out.

Mollified, Hermione snapped her mouth shut. Looking away from Harry, she pulled her napkin from her lap and dabbed her lips. After folding it neatly and placing it on the table, she looked back up again; her eyes were overly bright and her cheeks were stained pink. “Right. Why would anyone be interested in me?”

Harry closed his eyes, wishing he were better at things like this. Draco may kill him after today's debacle. At the very least, he was going to withhold shagging as a punishment. And after the Hermione-centric fantasies they’d been using to fuel their sex-life (not that it was bad before!) these past few days, Harry didn’t know if he would be able to stand it. He was particularly fond of the one where Draco took him from behind, but kept up a heated monologue detailing how it would feel for Harry if Hermione was below him at the same time. 

Because his cock didn’t care at all that Hermione was falling apart in front of him, it chose then to start showing interest as the idea of being inside Hermione while Draco was inside him flashed through his mind. With a groan, Harry crossed his arms in front of him on the table and laid his head down.   
“No, Hermione,” he mumbled at the sticky wooden tabletop below him, “that isn’t what I am trying to say at all. Fuck! What I’m trying to say is that  _ I’m _ interested.”


	3. Chapter 3

"And what did she say to you after that inane admission!?" Draco asked as he paced back-and-forth in front of Harry. Both were still in their work robes - Harry in the standard red Auror ones and Draco in some Italian, high-end tailored robes that he preferred for his role as the liaison between The Ministry of Magic and Gringotts.

Harry ran a hand through his hair, then looked away. "She laughed."

Stopping his pacing, Draco stared at him. “She laughed?"

Harry covered his face with his hands, pushing the heels into his eye sockets, and nodded. He could hear Draco start pacing again, even as he kept his eyes covered.

"What sort of laugh was it? Did she genuinely find it funny? Was it a pity laugh? Or was she nervous?" Rapid-fire, Draco came up with possibilities. 

"I don't bloody know what sort of laugh it was!" Harry bit out, removing his hands from his eyes. With a sigh and a shrug, he said, "It was a short laugh."

"You've got a Pensieve in the Auror office, right? I can just look at your memories." Halting again, Draco stood in front of Harry. "Salazar knows that would be more reliable than what you're offering me."

Even through his embarrassment at having mucked up his lunch with Hermione, Harry managed to roll his eyes and scoff at Draco. "That Pensieve is extremely rare and only to be used for official Auror business. We can't just waltz in there and use it for you to analyze Hermione's laugh."

Draco scowled at Harry. Resuming his strides back and forth, Draco muttered to himself in-between sips to drain the glass of firewhisky he held. Harry picked up his half-full glass from the side table next to his chair, but rather than drinking it, he just stared at the alcohol. A dull ache was beginning to form behind his temples.

Catching a familiar word, Harry’s head snapped up and he caught Draco in an intense glare. “Did you just say ‘I knew I should have _ Imperioused _ him’?”

“Well, perhaps we wouldn’t be in this mess if I had,” he nearly shouted. Instantly, Draco appeared chagrined - his eyes softened and his shoulders slumped. Now he was the one running a hand through his hair, pulling out the leather thong that held back his shoulder-length locks.

Obviously, he was being overly dramatic and already felt sorry, Harry told himself. No need to rile him up more by acknowledging such an absurd statement. Timidly, Harry told him, “Once she realized I was serious, probably because I didn't join in the laughing, she said she needed time to think about it.”

Draco turned sharply on his heel and marched up to Harry’s chair, towering over Harry’s seated position and looking down his nose at him. “She did?”

Harry nodded.

“Why didn’t you say so from the beginning?” Draco threw his hands up in the air, coming precariously close to sloshing the ice out of his tumblr. Fixing Harry in an intense look, he declared, “This I can work with. What did she say about me? And don’t leave anything else out."

"Well… About that-"

"I did come up, right? Granger asked about me - she had to have." His voice took on a pleading quality.

Harry bit his lip and shook his head slowly. In addition to a burgeoning headache, his stomach was beginning to feel queasy. "Not exactly."

"You didn't talk about me _ at all_?" Draco interjected, wide-eyed. 

Shaking his head again, Harry felt awful. By the time he realized Hermione had not even asked about Draco, they were back in the Ministry atrium, going their separate ways. He couldn't very well shout out anything to her then. There was no explanation he could offer Draco as to why it had not occurred to him sooner.

"What do you _ think _ she thinks?" Draco started pacing again, his robes snapping behind him. "Does she _ think _ we broke up? Would she _ assume _you're looking to have her behind my back?"

"I hardly doubt she would imagine the real situation."

"I don't." Draco smirked, looking mildly less agitated, although he carded a hand through his loose hair, showing he was still nervous. "If there's one thing I am sure she has in spades, besides intelligence, it’s an imagination. We can still use that to our advantage.”

Silently, Harry took a small sip, watching Draco think. It was best not to interrupt him when he plotted.

A sly smile stole over Draco’s face. “I think I know what direction we need to take this. First though, you need to tell me everything else you’ve left out.”

It didn’t take more than another five minutes to dissect Harry’s final minutes with Hermoine. After his admission, she had become distant and remained quiet on their way back to work. Just before they walked back into the Ministry, Harry had grabbed Hermione's hand to give it a quick squeeze. 

His parting words to her were, “I only wanted to take you out to lunch to make sure you were okay. I didn’t mean to—”

“I’ll talk to you later, Harry,” she had cut him off, with a meaningful look to the passers-by around them. She had plastered a smile on her face that Harry knew to be fake, but it was good enough no one else would notice it was brittle around the edges.

Then she had disappeared into a lift that would take her down to the Department of Mysteries, leaving Harry waiting for a different one in order to get to his office.

“I think it’s time I moved in,” Draco declared when Harry finished.

Harry gaped at Draco, confused by the turn of events, wondering how Draco’s mind had apparated from one point to another.

“Keep up, Harry!” Draco rolled his eyes and sighed in a way that indicated he was going to give Harry an explanation, but he would suffer while doing it. “We don’t want Hermione to doubt you and I are still together. She needs to know that she has no hope of being your sole focus.”

“And that’s a good thing…?”

“Of course it’s a good thing! You’re going to plant the seed that she has to share. I can’t believe I have to spell this out for you.” 

Feeling suspicious, Harry asked, “How do you know so much about how to be comfortable with a threesome?”

“I read. You should try it some time.” Draco pulled his pocket watch from his robe. “It’s getting late. Perhaps we should eat some dinner, then have Kreacher and Mipsy begin working on moving my items over.”

“Wait! You meant now?” Harry felt like he was on a Muggle merry-go-round. 

“Yes, because then when you casually drop my move into a conversation in front of Hermione tomorrow, it will be the truth.” Draco paused, his brows knit as he rubbed his hand across his mouth. “You know…”

“What?” Harry asked when the other wizard trailed off mid-sentence.

Nodding, Draco whispered, “Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“We’ll need to meet in Diagon Alley during lunch tomorrow. We’ll window shop for linens and new furnishings.”

Harry looked around the study of Grimmauld Place in confusion. He had worked hard over the past few years to not only clean it and the rest of the house up, but also to redecorate the townhouse according to his tastes, not the blood-supremist shite the Black family had filled the it with.

“We don’t have to buy anything. We just need to make a statement,” Draco went on explaining his plan. Pausing, he snapped his fingers. “Mipsy.”

A rather large house elf, for their species at least, arrived with a soft pop.

“Yes master?” the rotund elf asked as she bowed. Her green eyes shone when she straightened. This elf was treated quite well and enjoyed serving Draco. 

Inclining his head enough to show he appreciated her respect, Draco commanded, “I woud like you to pack any personal belongings at my flat that you feel I would need in order to move in here. Bring them back tonight.”

The elf nodded, then asked, “And what of the rest of your belongings?”

“Leave them for now. I plan to rent the flat out; I may leave it furnished.”

The elf bowed again before she winked away.

Harry supposed there was nothing to do but to call Kreacher in order for him to start making them dinner. He rolled his head on his shoulders, feeling a bit of the tension from earlier seep away.

“Think we can tip off a reporter from the _ Prophet _ about tomorrow and have it still seem spontaneous?” Draco asked, heading for the kitchen.

“Ughhh…” Honestly, Harry wasn’t sure. “We can try.”


	4. Chapter 4

The _shopping trip_ went off without a hitch. Draco set their pace along the store fronts at a leisurely pace, he held Harry’s hand, and he smiled at all of the correct times. Harry got the feeling that his boyfriend was genuinely enjoying himself. At the end of their lunch hour, Harry found he had enjoyed himself more than he expected.

Unsurprisingly, their expedition made the following day's society section of the _ Daily Prophet. _Instead of going straight into his office at Gringotts, Draco had followed Harry to his in order to pick up a copy and read it together.

Draco stood, leaning against the wall of Harry’s office, quickly reading the article, lips moving slightly as he read. In an attempt to get his day started just like any other day, Harry was looking through reports. He knew Draco would analyze Padma Patil's words and then give a blow by blow. It wasn't the first time the couple had made the news, so there was a bit of routine to this now.

What was not routine was for Hermione to come bursting into his office before he had even finished his first cup of tea. Coming to a halt across his desk from him, she held a copy of the _ Prophet _ in her hand and waved it in the air.

Although she did not look happy, Harry couldn't help but think she looked delicious. Her normally pristine robes were missing, most likely left behind hanging on a hook in her office, leaving her in slim wool trousers and a form-fitting blouse with a neckline that dipped. Her heels were the perfect height to push her arse out a little. And her hair was up in a loose ponytail, the curls lushly bouncing.

"What is this?" she demanded, dropping the paper on his desk. It landed open to a picture of Harry pointing at dining room table; Draco's arm was around his waist. Looking up from the paper, Harry found himself looking down Hermione's cleavage as she leaned over the edge of his desk menacingly. He cleared his throat and looked back down.

"It's called interior decorating, Granger," Draco drawled from behind her. She had missed him behind the door when she slammed it open upon entry. Harry caught the way the other man was staring at his perfect view of Hermione's backside before she straightened up and whipped around to stare at him. "What would you call it? Although, I wouldn't doubt your idea of decorating your flat mainly involves piles of books everywhere."

Looking like the Kneazle that swallowed the canary, he sauntered forward, obviously enjoying Hermione's discomfort. For her part, Hermione was bright red and nervously sliding her palms along her trousers. Harry sat dumbfounded - this was not how he had expected his morning to start.

Realization dawned on him that this was probably exactly how Draco had expected the day to begin. The sunning bastard has absolutely planned this. Draco had suggested buying the paper from the stand in the Ministry. It had been Draco who said he could be a little late to work today, then followed Harry to his office to read the story together. And Draco had chosen the perfect place to stand in Harry's office - right where there was a small alcove behind Harry's door so he could be overlooked by someone entering. Harry didn't know if he should be impressed or mortified that he hadn't figured it out sooner.

Stammering, Hermione started to piece together an explanation for her outburst, "I just meant... I helped Harry pick out some of the items at Grimmauld. Why would he be getting rid of them?"

"Which items?" Draco asked with a raised brow. "The lovely china? No, I think that was my great-great-great-grandmother's. Perhaps the paintings in the parlour? I don't believe so - I am fairly sure a distant ancestor Confounded a Muggle into 'gifting' those to him. Surely you didn't help Harry pick out his sheets? That seems far too... _intimate_ of an act."

Draco smirked when Hermione answered him with nothing more than a little squeak and a shake of her head. He was now right next to her, standing almost toe to toe, while she seemed frozen in place. Slowly he leaned across her, daring to brush against, so he could pick up her copy of the _Prophet_ from Harry's desk. 

"Oh, you were looking at the picture where we trying to decide on a new table. Now I see your confusion. The table Harry has is quite nice, but nothing of this quality. He really does need a new one."

Harry watched the way Hermione reacted with intense interest. She was breathing harder, her mouth slightly open and her hands must have been clammy, because she wiped them on her trousers again. She wasn't drawing her wand, which is something that certainly would have happened with Draco being nearly on top of her just a few years ago. Hanging out at the pubs together occasionally had gotten her used to the idea of him being around. For the first time in a week, Harry relaxed.

Cutting his eyes to Harry, Draco winked. "As much fun as this little meeting is, I really must be off to my own office now. Enjoy your day, Granger."

Because Draco was enjoying this far too much, Harry wasn't shocked when he rounded the desk and leaned down to kiss him. Quite thoroughly. "See you tonight, Harry."

A few beats passed in silence as they both listened to Draco's high-end dragonhide shoes click down the hall. When it seemed he was truly gone, Hermione rounded on him, eyes ablaze and her hands on her hips.

"Harry James Potter! You are going to explain the meaning of this right now! Why haven't you broken up with him if you're out propositioning other people?"

"Not 'other people'. Just you."

Sparks starting showing within the ends of her curls. Harry's momentary relaxation evaporated in the face of her ire. Gripping the arms of his chair, he steadied himself, wondering why Draco hadn't helped him prepare for this. The plan they had come up with last night had been very different. Why had they done that at all, if this had been Draco's plan all along?

Hermione tapped a foot and raised both her brows at him. "I'm waiting for a bit more than that, Harry!" she said, her voice low.

Deciding it was best to say something, even if it came out wrong, because Hermione would forgive him, (right?), he started to say, "I don't -"

But an alarm sounded in the main office area, signaling an all-hands on deck situation. Hermione looked to the door of his office, seeing that there were already people rushing down the hall towards the conference room. Harry stood quickly, patting his pocket to make sure his wand was there and grabbing his cloak. He didn't have time to catalogue his relief at being able to put off this conversation, he needed to concentrate on what could be coming.

"We'll have to talk later, Hermione."

"When?"

"I don't know. I'll owl you."

As he rushed towards the door, she reached out and grabbed his hand, holding him back for a moment.

"Did you mean what you said at lunch?" she asked, biting her bottom lip.

"I did." he replied, needing to leave, but unwilling to let her think he wasn't serious.

She squeezed his hand, then let go. "Be safe," she implored. "You had better come back to me."


End file.
